we taught him, at the same place, the manual of arms and Infantry tactics which had been introduced into the army after he was graduated at the Military Academy. In practical engineer drills the Captain was always in control.

After the men were passably well drilled in the "Infantry School of the Company"; the time had come for him to take executive command on the infantry drill ground. He did this on the first occasion, like a veteran Captain of Infantry until "at rest" was ordered.

Whilst the men were "at rest", McClellan and myself quietly, but earnestly, congratulated him upon his successful début as drill officer of an Infantry Company. He kindly attributed to our instruction in his house, whatever proficiency he had acquired in the new tactics which had then been recently introduced.

But, after the company was again called to "Attention" and the drill was progressing, whilst marching with full company front across the plain, the men all well in line, to my surprise the Captain ordered "faster", and added "the step is much too slow". Of course we went "faster". In a short time the Captain ordered "faster still, the step is very much too slow". This order was several times repeated, and before the drill ended we were virtually "at a run".

After the drill was over and the Company dismissed from the parade ground, I asked the Captain why he had not given the commands "quick time" and "double quick", instead of saying "faster" and "still faster". He said he did not intend the step should be "quick time"—much less "double quick". He only wanted the rate to be in "common time—90 steps a minute"; and added: "you had not reached that rate when the drill ended".

I insisted that he must be mistaken, and told him we were marching in "common time" or very near it, when he first gave the order, "faster". He persisted that he was right in regard to the rate of the step—said "that he had carefully counted it, watch in hand"; and added: "You were, at the last, not making more than 85 steps to the minute". I was satisfied that he was mistaken; but he relied implicitly upon the correctness of his count and the accuracy of his watch.

McClellan and I proceeded to the company quarters, of which I still had charge. On the way we referred to the matter of the step, and both of us were at a loss to account for the misapprehension we were sure the Captain labored under in regard to it.

I asked McClellan to take out his watch and count whilst I marched in "common time". I made 90 steps per minute—and repeated it more than once. It presently dawned upon us that our Captain, whilst consulting his watch, had counted only one foot in getting at the number of steps: and that we were really making 170 steps to the minute when he counted 85. The mystery was solved, the Captain had counted "the left foot" only.

When we next went to his house for instruction in details of the school of the engineer soldier, I asked him how many steps we were making a minute when he first ordered "faster". He said "about 45". I replied: "That's it. We have found out what was the matter. You counted only the left foot. We were marching in 'common time' when you ordered us to move 'faster'; and you pushed us to nearly twice that rate".

"The cat was out of the bag." The Captain saw it at once and laughed heartily over the error he had fallen into in the latter part of his "first appearance" as captain, in drilling the company as infantry. He made no such mistake thereafter; and the men never knew of his "count", watch in hand.

On the 26th of September, 1846, we sailed from New York, 71 rank and file, for Brazos Santiago, under orders to report to General Taylor, commanding the U. S. army in Mexico. We landed at Brazos on the 12th of October, remained at that point for several days, proceeded thence to the mouth of the Rio Grande and arrived at Carmargo on the 2nd of November. There the company was delayed for several weeks because transportation for the engineer train to the headquarters of the Army at Monterey, was not then available.

The Company left Carmargo for Brazos, on the 29th of November, under orders to proceed to Tampico by sea, but was ordered to return to Matamoros with a portion of its tools, and march, via Victoria, to Tampico—the bulk of its train to be transported to the latter place by water.

Whilst detained at Carmargo instruction in the school of the engineer soldier was kept up, and infantry drills were constantly practiced. During that time several thousand troops were in camp near Carmargo, and the men of the engineer company learned that they were, by the line of the army, styled: "the pick and shovel brigade". Their officers advised them not to care for this epithet but, "take it easy, continue to endeavor to become model infantry, and engraft on that a fair knowledge of the duties of the engineer soldier". They were assured that "for heavy work", details would have to be made from the line of the army; and these details would, for the time, constitute the real "pick and shovel brigade" under the control of engineer officers, assisted by trained engineer soldiers. When the time came for close fighting the engineer company would be at the front.

The troops stationed on the Rio Grande during the fall of 1846, suffered greatly from Mexican diarrhœa, fevers and other diseases. Several men of the engineer company died, and Captain Swift and twenty of the men were left in hospital at Matamoros, when the company finally left the latter place.

Before giving an account of our first march in the enemy's country, it may be well to state here, that with two exceptions, the enlisted men of the engineer company were native born, and all but four of them were raw recruits. Each of those four had served, with credit, during one or more terms of enlistment in the regular army. Three of them were promptly made sergeants, and the fourth was a musician (bugler).

All of the recruits but one, were very carefully selected material, out of which to form, as soon as practicable, skilled engineer soldiers. The one exception was a short, fat, dumpy, Long Island Dutchman—a good cook, specially enlisted by Captain Swift to cook for the men. He was given the pay and rank of artificer of engineers. The men looked upon him more as a servant of theirs than as a fellow soldier. He was well satisfied with his position, prided himself on his special duties, rather looked down upon "soldiers"—and was impudent by nature.

All went well enough with the "cook" until he was required to take his place in the ranks, at regular bi-monthly "muster, and inspection" for pay. His performance on that occasion was so grotesquely awkward that I directed he should be put through the "squad-drill" by one of the sergeants, who was a thoroughly competent, but rather severe, drill-master.

The "cook" felt that his rights were invaded, in requiring him to submit to be drilled. The sergeant made no progress in teaching him. After three days' trial, he reported to me that he was mortified, and ashamed, to have to admit he could do nothing with "that cook"; and he asked to be relieved from the duty of drilling him. In reply to my question: "Can't you make him obey you?" He replied: "No—the only thing I can do is to kill him"; and added: "When that kind of thing has to be done, in this company, my understanding is, the lieutenant in command is the only one who has the right to kill".

I relieved the sergeant, and told him I would take the "cook" in hand at the next drill. On the following day, I marched him off into the dense chaparral, on the bottom lands near Matamoros. After following obscure paths, about three miles in their windings through the jungle, I halted him in a small open space a few hundred yards from the company camp. He thought no doubt, we were five miles from camp—in a